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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312973">'cause her hell's my paradise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix'>jdphoenix</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bisexual Character, Episode: s01e15 Yes Men, Evil Grant Ward, F/M, Time Travel Fix-It</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:54:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,750</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24312973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“If Ward is trying to hide Lorelei from us, why would he go to a city with more cameras than a SHIELD base?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jemma Simmons/Grant Ward</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>'cause her hell's my paradise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from Bryce Fox's "horns."</p><p>Also I always get a little worried when I tag an early episode but there are spoilers for later in the series because I imagine some poor person watching the show after it airs and looking for fic as they go. So fair warning to that hypothetical person that while this fic takes place in 1x15, it deals with canon through s2.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Did everyone go crazy while I was in a coma?” Skye demands.</p><p>Jemma’s grateful. If Skye hadn’t said it, she would’ve had to. As it is, she can bite her tongue and continue with this hour’s blood draw.</p><p>“It was worth the risk,” Coulson says. His voice is firm, but there are lines around his eyes Jemma hasn’t seen since the recovery center they first took Skye to.</p><p>Skye doesn’t see it however, as she’s already busy on her laptop, searching for Ward before Coulson’s even given her the order to do so. She makes a judgmental little noise as if to say it wasn’t worth the risk at all. Jemma agrees with that too.</p><p>It all sounded so sensible when Coulson was outlining the plan before they left, saying the men would hang back at the perimeter and only May and Sif would enter the building. Of course the entire point of a perimeter is because the enemy might attempt to breach it. And now Ward has been compromised.</p><p>“Lorelei is dangerous,” Coulson goes on while a sick feeling settles in Jemma’s gut. “What she’s done to Ward, she could do to countless men. She needs to be stopped and Ward knew that.”</p><p>“He’s not dead,” Jemma and Skye both say at once. Skye shoots her a wry look and goes back to her typing, leaving this one to her. “We’re not assuming he’s a lost cause. Are we, sir?”</p><p>“Of course not. This is hardly the first time an agent has been turned, there are protocols for engagement.”</p><p>“You say that like he betrayed his oath. He was <em>brainwashed</em>.”</p><p>“I know.” Under normal circumstances Coulson’s perfect negotiator calm would be annoying; today it’s infuriating. “And there <em>are</em> protocols for this. Barton was influenced by Loki-”</p><p>“And Agent Romanoff nearly killed him if the stories from the helicarrier are to be believed.”</p><p>Coulson sighs. “Listen, I know you two are worried about Ward-”</p><p>Jemma stiffens. Something about the way he says it coupled with that sad, fatherly smile makes her think he doesn’t just mean because Ward is their teammate. Jemma cuts her eyes to Skye and sees that she’s still engrossed in whatever program she’s running, so at least she hasn’t seen it.</p><p>“-we all are,” Coulson goes on. “But Ward, more than anyone, knows the risks here. He knows we have to stop her.”</p><p>Jemma doesn’t like the sound of that.</p><p>“Do you?” Skye asks.</p><p>She folds her arms across her chest in a show of defiance and Jemma can’t help angling her head for a look at the screen. There’s a search program running, cycling through thousands of photos and videos per minute. Not that it will likely do them much good; Ward of all people knows how to stay hidden.</p><p>“I mean, we lost Ward. What happens when we find him? Are we gonna lose you too? Fitz? Who’s next? Is Sitwell gonna show up and get himself brainwashed?”</p><p>Coulson’s jaw tightens and he takes a moment to speak—likely because Skye is absolutely right. They knew what Lorelei’s powers entailed; those men never should have been anywhere near her.</p><p>“Lorelei has us at a disadvantage-”</p><p>“Because you let her-!”</p><p>“Because we don’t have the resources!” Coulson snaps back, angrier than he typically lets himself be. He reins it in quickly and looks to Jemma for support. Though she’s loathe to give it under current circumstances, she is aware what he’s talking about.</p><p>She turns to face Skye, tapping her loose fist idly against the bed railing as she does so. There is a reason Skye doesn’t know about this.</p><p>“Currently a conference is being held at the Cube, the major European base, catering specifically to women in SHIELD.”</p><p>Slowly, Skye rolls her eyes so far she falls back against her pillows. “You have <em>got</em> to be kidding me.”</p><p>“More than half of all female agents are there. Meaning there just aren’t many women left in this hemisphere to help against Lorelei.”</p><p>“So that’s it? We’re just gonna keep throwing men at her?”</p><p>“No,” Coulson says quickly. “We have reinforcements coming in. Agent Hand has canceled her lecture at the conference and is en route with an all-female STRIKE team. And the field office in Houston is sending us one of theirs. They have a female specialist who was supposed to start a long-term undercover assignment but she’s opted to put it off to help us. She should be here within the hour.”</p><p>“A specialist.”</p><p>“Mm-hm. One of the best.”</p><p>“Like Ward.”</p><p>Coulson stares stiffly, obviously seeing something in Skye’s question that Jemma’s missing.</p><p>“You remember when we first met Ward and he was all ‘if we have to kill Mike, then we have to kill him’?”</p><p>“Skye,” Jemma says sternly, “you weren’t even there. And that Ward voice was atrocious; I’ve told you, it’s all in the nose.”</p><p>“I’ve heard stories! Tell me I’m wrong.” She says it to Jemma but cuts immediately to Coulson. “Tell me this agent or that STRIKE team won’t take Ward out if it comes to it.”</p><p>For a long moment, Coulson says nothing. “I can’t.”</p><p>Jemma sits, quite heavily, in the chair beside Skye’s bed.</p><p>“But like you said, we can’t handle this on our own. We need those agents.” He sighs, looking suddenly old. “We’re going to do everything in our power to get Ward back. I promise you that.”</p><p>They both watch him go. It’s not until they hear the lab door close in the distance that Skye speaks.</p><p>“Why aren’t you at the conference? I mean, May I get, she hates that kind of crap, but you’re one half of Fitz-Simmons. Shouldn’t they be dying to have you?”</p><p>Jemma, quite tellingly she knows, twiddles her thumbs. “I was asked to do so and had considered attending if our schedule allowed for it.”</p><p>“So why aren’t you? Until Lorelei showed up, we’d been grounded for <em>weeks</em>.”</p><p>Jemma doesn’t answer and doesn’t need to.</p><p>“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” Skye’s voice is painfully small. Jemma almost feels guilty for her concern. “You know I’m okay, right? You don’t have to-”</p><p>She’s interrupted by a chine from her computer it.</p><p>Jemma sits up on the very edge of her seat. “Is it…?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Skye says. “Computer facial recognition’s not perfect though, you know? I have to manually confirm… What the hell?”</p><p>“No! That’s him.” Jemma points—as if Skye could miss the grainy still from a security camera which has been blown up to fill a third of her screen. “He’s all right!”</p><p>“Yeah, I see. I also see that it makes no sense. He’s in Vegas.” She meets her eyes. “If Ward is trying to hide Lorelei from us, why would he go to a city with more cameras than a SHIELD base?”</p><p>“Maybe … he wants to be found?” Jemma suggests. One corner of Skye’s screen is tracking Ward, the AI following him from camera to camera as he leads Lorelei through a crowded casino. “Maybe he’s breaking free of her influence somehow or there’s a part of the real him still in there, trying to get us a message?” He overcame the berserker staff; surely that experience could help him to overcome this?</p><p>“Maybe,” Skye says. She sounds far too much like Coulson when she says it. That is precisely his tone, the one that says he’d like to hope for the best, but his reason and experience prevents him from being so optimistic.</p><p>Though Jemma values reason above most things, in this case she’d rather cling to her hope.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>“Doesn’t this suit me?” Lorelei asks, holding a rope of diamonds to her neck. Several ropes, actually. She could wear that thing as a top.</p><p>“Beautiful, baby,” Grant simpers. “Makes you look like a goddess.”</p><p>She beams and turns back to the jeweler because she can’t be satisfied with just one gaudy purchase. Grant glances down at the floor where her other purchases are splayed around him in more than a dozen department store bags. It’s a good thing that wallet he palmed on his way down the strip had a black card in it or Lorelei might have to budget.</p><p>God, he hates this bitch.</p><p>Oh, he knows he loved her a few hours ago. He would’ve died for her then. But that was before. Before what, he’s not sure exactly. Last thing he remembers he was being the good guy, letting Simmons live after she tried to murder him in cold blood—seriously, what the hell crawled up her ass?—and then something hard hit him the back of the head and the next thing he knew he was listening to Lorelei go on and on about how there won’t be anymore overweight tourists in Hawaiian shirts once she rules the world.</p><p>Maybe this is hell, he thinks as Lorelei starts telling the jeweler how inferior his products are—not that he cares, he’d swallow every stone if Lorelei asked him to. Maybe whatever Simmons hit him with, it cracked his skull and now he’s dead and this is his punishment for all the shit he did in his life: eternity listening to Lorelei.</p><p>“Grant?”</p><p>He shoots to his feet, ever the adoring lackey, and takes the bags with him. He’s not sure if Lorelei can re-brainwash him, but he’s not willing to take the risk. Since flinching away from her touch isn’t an option and accidentally moving away every time she reaches for him is sure to be noticed, the bag-shield is his best defense at the moment.</p><p>But not a great one. Lorelei pulls back the hand she was extending to him and looks at the bags like she has no idea where they came from or why they’re attacking her like this.</p><p>“Armand says he can hold most of my jewels until I send for them but this-” She lifts a spiked diadem out of its velvet case. “I want to wear this when I skewer Sif on her own sword.”</p><p>“Hot,” Grant says and means it. Lorelei may be as unattractive to him now as a naked Coulson, but her revenge scenario is undeniably a turn on, especially when he imagines Kara in her place and Morse bleeding out at her feet.</p><p>Luckily Lorelei doesn’t want anything from him past the compliment and so misses his gut-punched expression as she’s too busy flouncing out in search of another salesman to turn into her slave.</p><p>Grant has no idea what happened to him or how to undo it, meaning he’s likely gonna have to relive the next year of his life to get back to where he started. He knows that Kara—the loyal SHIELD agent she was before Whitehall tore her apart—would never want anything to do with him. Maybe if he’d gone back farther. Another year or two and he might’ve had enough time to find her, let her see the real him-</p><p>He almost laughs. That’s exactly what he used to think about Skye. He just needed more <em>time</em> and she’d realize she … what? Could lower herself enough to show him some scrap of affection?</p><p>That’s not love. He learned that with Kara.</p><p>Lorelei stops at a fountain, some overdone thing with those weird fish-dolphin sculptures that look like they were done by someone who never went out on a boat in his life.</p><p>“You have no idea how much I’ve missed this,” she sighs. She toes off the sandals she sent him for during her pedicure so she can dip her feet in the water. A few people look at her askance but as they’re all on vacation, it’s not their problem.</p><p>“Crowded tourist traps?” he says, low enough the fountain will drown out his sarcasm.</p><p>He looks at his watch. It’s been <em>three hours</em> since he maneuvered her away from the hotel rooms and all her talk of his “burning berserker rage” (yeah, lady, the only one he’s feeling wrathful towards right now is you) and into Caesars' underground mall. He thought for sure they’d be interrupted by now.</p><p>If he’d known it’d take this long, he would’ve held onto that burner he used to text John. He could’ve given him the details instead of just a couple quick warnings about things to avoid in the days ahead.</p><p>The leggy blonde closest to Lorelei stands, giving Grant a pointed <em>you can have my seat</em> look. Since Lorelei’s back is turned, there’s no reason not to give her a nod of thanks, but he doesn’t take the seat. He’s tired from all the mindless shopping and these bags are awkward enough they might as well weigh an extra twenty pounds, but he suddenly can’t move. Because there’s a woman just around the curve of the fountain, kissing a quarter before tossing it in. She smiles after she does it, like she really believes her wish’ll come true or something, and makes her way carefully around the moms with strollers between him and her, already on her way to whatever shop or restaurant she needs to be at.</p><p>Grant catches her arm before she can pass him by.</p><p>She looks from him to his hand. He’s gotta be hurting her, tight as his grip is, but he can’t seem to loosen up. “Can I help you?” she asks archly.</p><p>His throat works. He’s shaking. He’s gotta be scaring her. But… “Kara?” he asks, sure this must be some sort of hallucination. Maybe this really <em>is</em> hell.</p><p>Her shoulders sag and her eyes roll up. “Shit. I’m made.” All at once, the women around the fountain spring up.</p><p>Grant should’ve noticed there were no men. He should’ve noticed that neither of the babies-in-strollers were so much as fussing. He should’ve noticed <em>anything</em>. But all he could see was her.</p><p>“Let her go, Ward.” May. He doesn’t need to turn around to know she’s got a gun on him.</p><p>“Oh.” Lorelei stands, slow and regal. “How quaint. Mortals who think they can defeat a god.”</p><p>“No. But we were smart enough to bring our own.”</p><p>As if on cue, a roar of pure, feminine fury echoes around them and Sif falls from god only knows where, crashing into the fountain and Lorelei with a splash.</p><p>Kara uses the distraction to wrench Grant’s elbow, breaking his hold. He twists his arm to grip her elbow in return and send her spinning away. The agents ahead of him try to catch her but he yanks his arm down to his side while he throws out his other arm, using Kara’s weight at his back to anchor him while he hurls the mess of bags into May. Kara lashes out, using her momentum to send them both rolling on the floor with him taking the brunt of the fall. He stumbles to his feet a good ten yards from the fight happening at the fountain.</p><p>Half the agents are there, watching Sif and Lorelei go at it, ready to offer aid—as if—if they need to. The other half converge around him.</p><p>“Ward,” May says, hands out in a classic <em>calm the fuck down</em> posture. He lost her her gun. Good. “Listen to me, you don’t want to do this. She’s in your head.”</p><p>He lets himself smile. “What do you know about what I want?”</p><p>Like he’d hoped, the dig hits her hard. He makes the most of the opening, darting forward. One of the agents gets too trigger happy, takes her shot, and hits one of the others. After that most of them have the good sense to put their ICERs away and take him hand-to-hand.</p><p>Which is honestly something of a lateral move on their part. They’re good, he’ll give him that. They’re SHIELD agents and there’s no room for slack in Operations Division. But at the end of the day, he’s one of the best.</p><p>While he takes down the rest, he keeps his focus on May. She’s the one—the <em>only</em> one—he wants to see hurt. He missed his chance last time. He won’t be so sloppy again.</p><p>If he’d hoped the melee would make her sloppy, he’s disappointed. She sees as well as he does that none of the others have the experience necessary to counter his strength and skill, but she does. She’s been fighting guys twice her size all her life and she knows him, knows his style and his strengths. She’s waiting for him to tire himself out on the others before making her move, confident she can take him down.</p><p>She’s wrong.</p><p>A year ago, when he first went toe-to-toe with May, she had him at a disadvantage. He was brainwashed, thinking through the fog Lorelei put on him, and he was playing a role all the while. But now? Now he’s the real Grant Ward and that’s someone May’s never met before.</p><p>When she finally makes her move, he gives her what she expects. A high block, a jab, a feint to his right. He retreats, stumbles back in search of some breathing room while she crowds him every step of the way.</p><p>At this point he has no idea where Lorelei’s gone. He can hear crashing he suspects means Sif is throwing her through a wall or two.</p><p>The agents he hasn’t knocked out watch on, all eager to see the Cavalry at work, and act as a silent barrier helping May herd him back towards the fountain.</p><p>He feels the water slick beneath his boots and the remains of the low wall at his back. May makes a punch—she doesn’t mean it to connect, just force him back so he’ll stumble over the edge and into the water. He lets the puddle sweep his foot out from under him, drops to his ass on the floor and uses the move to buy him the time he needs to pull his gun.</p><p>“Gun!”</p><p>He flinches at the sound of Kara’s warning, misses his shot. May kicks the gun away. Grant twists, follows her, crowds her up against the fountain and follows her over the rim. He gets her on her stomach, hands on her neck, she bucks and scratches back at him while bubbles stream up through her hair. He just needs a second to get the right grip, the right angle and he’ll be able to-</p><p>A body barrels into him. His grip loosens as he pitches sideways. He hears a crack. Stars explode in his vision. His own skull hits the snout on one of those ugly ass dolphins.</p><p>“Grab her!” a voice yells.</p><p>Kara climbs off him, not giving a shit if he’s hurt so long as May’s still underwater.</p><p>He didn’t get the hold he needed, it’s only been a few seconds, probably not long enough… He watches them lift her limp body out and hopes.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, ow,” Jemma says with sympathy. Given the size of the bandage on Ward’s head, she had expected the injury to be much larger, so there is that small relief. The wound itself, however, is quite nasty.</p><p>“It looks worse than it is,” Ward says.</p><p>“Yes, I’m sure you expect me to believe that.”</p><p>Given her fears, the fact that he has returned to them whole and relatively unharmed is something of a miracle. But the nature of what he’s been through means there’s still plenty of cause for worry—and he does nothing to help in that regard when he chuckles lowly to himself.</p><p>A faint smile is his typical response to her chastising and that’s taken months of effort on her part. That he’s breaking form in such a notable way is quite unsettling.</p><p>She rolls her shoulders, attempting to displace her unease and delicately pulls the butterfly bandages from the wound that most definitely requires stitches. “Let’s see about undoing the damage that field medic did to you, shall we?”</p><p>“Hey, I was just doing my job.”</p><p>The next bandage is placed awkwardly and pulls at a loose bit of skin, causing Ward to flinch.</p><p>“Agent Palamas,” Jemma says smiling in her direction while her eyes remain fixed on her patient. “You were the medic on scene?”</p><p>“The one who took care of him, yeah, but most of my training was just ‘how to keep someone from bleeding out before they get to the real doctor.’ And now here you are.”</p><p>Jemma scoffs. “I’m a doctor, but hardly that sort. I’m afraid my training isn’t much better than yours.”</p><p>Palamas leans over the lab bench behind Ward, stretching so as to see the wound while Jemma begins to clean it. “Looks to me like you know what you’re doing.”</p><p>“Yes, well. <em>This one</em> has given me plenty of practice.”</p><p>Palamas laughs lightly and straightens. “Yeah, I can see that. He was brutal out there. Nearly killed Agent May.”</p><p>Jemma cuts Ward a glance. Not that she’s unaware Ward is quite capable of brutality, the violence he practices is more often what she would call <em>focused</em>. The only true exception she can recall was, well, the last time he suffered from an alien influence.</p><p>As such, it’s really no surprise that his jaw is clenched and he’s wearing an expression Skye likes to call his “count-to-ten face.”</p><p>Jemma drops her hand to his, accompanying the gesture with a slight smile when he meets her eyes. She doesn’t blame him at all for what he did out there, no matter how brutal or very nearly fatal it might have been. And she’s certain no one else does either.</p><p>“I’m just grateful you brought him back in one piece.” She steps aside, adjusting her supplies so it’s easier to grab without looking as she sutures the wound.</p><p>“Just doing my job.”</p><p>“You’re not though.” Jemma bites her lip, suddenly remembering Ward might not be aware of this. But she has to thank Agent Palamas for what she’s done and isn’t sure whether there will be as good an opportunity to come. “The others are, yes, but Coulson told us you were meant to be starting an undercover assignment. You put off all that work just to help us.”</p><p>Beside her, Ward sucks in an audible breath.</p><p>“It’s no big deal,” Palamas says. “I mean, look at the options here. On the one hand there’s the mission I trained and prepared for: going undercover playing nice with child traffickers. And on the other there are aliens.” She balances her hands in the air a moment before letting the designated alien hand drop. “I was happy to do it—and to spend a little extra time around some people who I don’t want to violently maim.”</p><p>Jemma chuckles while she takes up her needle. “I hope we’re a little more pleasant than that.”</p><p>Palamas smiles broadly. “Some of you are.” She heads for the door and, presumably, for the meeting happening upstairs. Lorelei has still not been caught and Hand has taken command of the situation, meaning they will likely be having hourly briefings on a largely unchanging situation.</p><p>Jemma has certainly not missed that woman.</p><p>“Thank you,” Ward says suddenly, just as Palamas is stepping up to the doorway. “For the-” he gestures to his head wound- “both times.”</p><p>She spins on her step. “Don’t mention it,” she says, somewhat stiffly, to Ward. To Jemma, she smiles. “I’ll tell Fitz it’s almost safe to come back down.”</p><p>Jemma nods her thanks, but is preoccupied by the ache she feels for Ward. He has such trouble making friends and now he’s gone and beaten an entire team’s worth of operatives. Not that it’s his fault, but neither is it theirs if they got the wrong first impression of him.</p><p>He sits still for the next two stitches before laughing again. Not the real, warm laughter they sometimes manage to draw out of him with their shenanigans on the Bus. This is much like his earlier laugh, low and dark and worrisome.</p><p>“What is it with you, huh?” he asks.</p><p>“Me?” she nearly squeaks. “What have I done?” She narrows her eyes at the wound, wondering if perhaps there’s some risk of brain damage.</p><p>What is she thinking? Of <em>course</em> there’s been some brain damage. That’s how he snapped out of Lorelei’s control.</p><p>Cognitive recalibration. Ridiculous. She hasn’t looked (though she will just as soon as this mess is behind them!) but she’s fairly certain that procedure is not to be found in any serious medical texts.</p><p>“Yes, you. You and specialists. How do you do it?”</p><p>An odd sort of shiver goes up her spine and she chooses not to analyze it until she’s finished with these stitches. “Do what? What have I done to you poor specialists?”</p><p>“I was hoping you could tell me. There was Trip last month. Now Palamas.”</p><p>He’s getting at something, though Jemma has no idea what. She meets his eyes and shakes her head in silent question.</p><p>He’s grinning at her, though it isn’t the warm sort she secretly treasures. “She was flirting with you.”</p><p>“Oh!” She laughs and slaps his shoulder—gently; his head is the worst of his injuries but he’s positively covered in bruises from fighting off <em>four</em> agents at once.</p><p>“I’m serious.”</p><p>“And you recently had a rather serious head injury. I think you’re seeing things, Ward. She was just being friendly.”</p><p>He clicks his tongue dismissively and she, certainly not in retaliation, makes another stitch.</p><p>“Tell me,” he says, “when she bent over the table, did you see down her shirt?”</p><p>Jemma is a professional and her hands do not falter. “If she did it would have been an accident and I wouldn’t have dreamed of looking.”</p><p>Ward’s laugh sounds a lot like “<em>Women</em>,” but she chooses not to be offended. “It wasn’t an accident. Specialists know their own bodies and how to use them. If she let you see some boob, it was on purpose.”</p><p>“Ward!” She stares, slack-jawed. That is… Well, it’s nothing she would ever expect of him. She sets her tools aside. “Are you feeling all right? I know that what you went through must have been incredibly difficult and no doubt frustrating for a man who so prides himself on control and while I’m not that sort of doctor, I do promise you that anything you say to me in confidence-”</p><p>He stands all at once, sending the stool clanging back into the lab bench behind him. She stares up at him, not at all daunted by his anger. (All right, perhaps she is a <em>bit</em> daunted, but she knows Ward would never hurt her.)</p><p>“You <em>promise</em>,” he says, drawing out the word as if such a thing is patently ridiculous.</p><p>Far from being insulted, the ache in her heart deepens. Ward is likely thinking of his own promises and how recently they were broken.</p><p>“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?”</p><p>She opens her mouth to answer and immediately thinks better of it, as doing so will only prove him right.</p><p>He smirks, cruelty sharpening the expression.</p><p>She shakes her head. “I see what you’re doing. You’re feeling guilty and undeserving of forgiveness so you’re trying to push me away. Likely you did the same with May and that’s why she disappeared upstairs so fast. And you’ll do the same to the others if I give you a chance—but I will <em>not</em> be giving you that chance, Ward. I am forgiving you and there is nothing you can say or do to stop me.” She tips her chin up, daring him to argue.</p><p>He chuckles again. “We’ll see about that.”</p><p>Before she can respond, he grabs her hips and lifts her onto the lab bench.</p><p>“Wa-” That’s all she manages before his mouth is on hers. Her thoughts scatter. From his almost-painful grip on her to his tentative smiles meant just for Skye. From his reluctance to report for post-mission check-ups to his private jokes whenever the others left them alone for them. From his bellowing at her to cure him of the berserker staff to his promise to come back on the train to his accusation that she has some power over specialists.</p><p>She didn’t think to remind him she never had any power over him.</p><p>Just as well, as she doesn’t like being proven wrong.</p><p>He pinches her under her shirt—she could have sworn she tucked it in this morning—and she nearly bites off both their tongues.</p><p>“Stop. Thinking,” he orders and proceeds to do his level best to help her along.</p><p>His hands skim over her skin while he kisses her deeply. When she’s sure she’s going to suffocate and die quite happily, he breaks off, leaving her gasping while he moves down to her chest, leaving what will surely be an impressive hickie on her breast. She digs her fingers into his hair and wraps her legs around his waist, determined not to let him go.</p><p> </p><p>+++++</p><p> </p><p>Simmons tip-toes across the carpet under the false impression Grant could ever sleep through his partner getting out of bed. Not that he’s bothering to relieve her of that misconception. She’s bent over, giving him a great view of her ass while she gathers up her clothes from the floor.</p><p>“Oh!” She straightens, yesterday’s outfit clutched to her chest. Not to hide—that’d be stupid; there’s not an inch of her he hasn’t seen at this point. “Good morning. Are you feeling any better?”</p><p>That is just so damn Simmons. <em>Good morning</em> and <em>how are you today</em> to the guy whose name she spent most of last night screaming.</p><p>He stretches his arms high above his head, not much caring that the blanket’s only covering his ankles at this point. Simmons sure doesn’t seem to mind.</p><p>“Yeah. I’m feeling much better.” He lets his eyes take in her curves.</p><p>She drops her clothes on the end of the bed and pulls out her underwear. “I meant now that Lorelei’s been captured. I would have asked you last night but, well…”</p><p>That blush she used to give him—still gives him—goes a whole lot lower than he ever thought. And to think he almost never knew.</p><p>“I was an animal?”</p><p>“I would say you were <em>insistent</em>.”</p><p>They barely made it into this hotel room last night. He’d say animalistic is the better evaluation.</p><p>He snorts. “You gotta stop doing that.”</p><p>She stills on the verge of buttoning up her blouse, those wide, innocent eyes on him.</p><p>“That too,” he admits. No one’s called them in. That means no reason yet for all that beautiful skin to be hidden away. “But I was talking about you always assuming the best of me.”</p><p>“Grant.” She says it so soft and plaintive, like there’s no way he could fail to live up to her expectations.</p><p>He is gonna break her heart so bad.</p><p>She crawls back into bed to stroke his cheek like he’s just a great big puppy, violent when needed but good and loyal at heart. He reaches into her open shirt, thumbing the mark on her breast. She hisses in a breath and her lower lip disappears behind her teeth. She looks so damn good he’s gotta wonder what was wrong with him he never did this the first time around.</p><p>He hooks his leg between hers and eases her down onto the bed beneath him. She stares up at him from eyes made heavy with desire.</p><p>“If you’re trying to convince me you’re a monster because of what you did while under her control, you’re choosing a rather poor argument—not that I’m complaining, of course.”</p><p>He bends over her, kissing his way from her naval up her chest. “Oh no. That was nothing.”</p><p>She shivers, he knows, from the scrape of his stubble, not from his bald confession.</p><p>“I’m a monster because that’s who I am.”</p><p>Her only argument is a pretty little gasp when he leaves a mirror of that first mark on her other breast.</p><p>“You said I’m always in control of myself, that Lorelei took that away. But what if I don’t want it back? I’m tired, Jemma. I’m tired of living up to expectations and doing what I’m supposed to do.” He brushes her hair back from her face and cups her head in his hand so he can look at her. “Do you know how exhausting it is to always be perfect? Never not enough. Never too much.”</p><p>To his surprise, she nods. “I do.”</p><p>He smiles. “Then maybe you can understand why I’m not too excited about going back to that. I’m not holding back anymore.” He means it. The uprising is less than two weeks away. Two weeks he plans to spend fucking with the team that abandoned him.</p><p>This is part of that. No one would expect Agent Grant Ward to take advantage of sweet, innocent Simmons. But after Lorelei, they’re all gonna assume it’s some weird coping mechanism. They’ll feel <em>bad</em> for him and the same is gonna happen with every other shitty thing he does between now and the uprising.</p><p>“If you’re trying to frighten me,” Simmons says, “I already told you it won’t work.” Her fingers dance along his ribs and she arches her back so she can kiss him. “I wasn’t frightened last night, was I? We all have our monstrous sides. Why are you so convinced yours is unlovable?”</p><p>“Why are you so convinced you can handle it?”</p><p>She gives him that judgmental look she’s so good at. “I’m stronger than you think.”</p><p>She is. She tried to murder him a few days ago. Hell, she <em>told him</em> she was gonna do it and he still didn’t think she would.</p><p>She brushes her fingers through his hair, narrowly avoiding the bandage on his forehead. “I’m not running away, Grant.”</p><p>She will. Two weeks from now, she won’t be able to put enough distance between them, not after what they’ve done.</p><p>She pulls him down, sealing her empty promise with her body. And while he responds in kind, burying himself inside her, it occurs to him that just because she’s gonna turn out to be a liar doesn’t mean he has to let her.</p><p>Kara is off-limits. He won’t see her hurt again. But Simmons? Who couldn’t even give him a second chance after months of friendship? Who tried to take his life after all the times he saved hers?</p><p>She could be broken and he wouldn’t feel a bit of guilt.</p><p> </p>
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